Distractions
by Dinas Emrys
Summary: After finally managing to be together, Yang, Weiss, and Blake take advantage of the quiet to enjoy a little 'them' time. But with the three under one roof, a little R&R quickly turns to something more ... active. Bee'sSchnees relationship fluff from my Vigilante AU. Includes Yang's car washing shutting down her girlfriends' reasoning skills, comforting, etc. Fluff.
1. Distractions

Writer's Note: So, a bit of explanation. Distractions shares an AU with Vigilante, but sometimes I feel like writing some character-based fluff and nothing really plot-heavy. This means that I'm writing fairly far in the future of the AU, since I decided to go with consistent updates over chronological content. Distractions is mostly about snapshots in Blake, Weiss, and Yang's relationship, and Vigilante is/will be more about their relationship starting. At some point, I'll be going back and moving some of these chapters into the main Vigilante work (just some, not all).

_On the drive home after a long road-trip, Weiss leaves a gas station to find Yang washing their car. Higher reasoning skills shut down._

**Distractions**

_March 3rd, 2015_

Weiss knew she was gaping, that her slack jaw was hanging open. At this point, she didn't particularly care.

The car was a particularly bright yellow, something Yang had insisted on after Blake pointed out that the three of them could never fit on the back of the blonde's bike. Yang being Yang, she had tried to sell them on a side-car, but the cramped spaces and prediction of constant fights over which one got to press against their girlfriend's back had sunk that idea.

Then it had been a Sunbeam Tiger she'd fallen in love with – never mind that it only had two seats and the back shelf had no leg room or seatbelts to speak of. The claim that the third person could lie across the shelf had been feeble at best, and meant that Ruby would never be able to drive with them.

They finally settled on a 69 Camaro, complete with soft top and the black-and-yellow paint job Yang insisted on. There was little of the original car left anymore – Yang had rebuilt it almost completely from scratch, creating a monstrosity her more sensible girlfriends were hesitant to touch, much less drive. Weiss had to admit, it was a gorgeous car, all sleek lines and retro style, but that wasn't why she was staring.

The car was nothing next to the half-soaked girl crouched before the hood, her mane of blond hair tied back, her jacket and skirt long abandoned. Water ran down her sides, trickling between the hard muscles of her abs. Soap suds clung to her hands and arms, a few whisking up to stick in the cleavage rising out of her yellow top.

She even seemed to move a little slower, as if time had been kind enough to let this spectacle drag on, to let Weiss drink in the ridiculously sinful sight. Or her heart was racing fast enough to speed up her perception of time. She didn't really care at the moment. As far as she knew, the only thing in the world was that wet, curvy blond atop a soap-covered car.

"Weiss, here's the soda you wa …." Blake stopped mid-sentence, jerking to a halt next to the other girl. Yang had chosen that moment to reach across the car, giving her girlfriends an excellent view down her top as she scrubbed at the black stripe that split the yellow hood. She bent further, her chest pressing into the hood and pushing her already impressive cleavage higher against her chest.

"I've never been jealous of a car before," Weiss said, her throat dry and wanting.

"Our bathroom _is _big enough. We could have her …." Blake trailed off as Yang moved around to the other side, giving them an excellent view of her hips shifting from back and forth as she scrubbed the hood.

"Blake, whatever you were going to say…"

"Yeah?"

Weiss swallowed as Yang clambered atop the black-and-yellow hood, that magnificent ass swaying from side to side as she worked. She sent silent thanks to whatever in her girlfriend's past had given her a liking for short shorts. God, if this went on any longer, she'd be tempted to pin Yang to the car with her lips. "… we're doing it."

"What are you guys looking at?" Ruby came out of the 7-11, glancing from their blank faces to her older sister, chest pressed against the windshield.

"Come _on_, guys. Gross. Weiss, shut your mouth. Blake, you're purring."

The two women shook themselves out of their trance, watching as Yang rinsed off the last of the soap before turning the hose on her arms. Her body finally free of suds, the blonde met their eyes, switched off the hose, and winked.

"We're attacking her the second we get home, right?"

"Yup."


	2. Nightmares

Author's Note: Had this little idea pop into my head, and thought I'd get it out. Apologies for it not being the next Premium Well chapter; that will be next, though. Please feel free to criticize if it didn't work as well as I wanted - I was trying out using multiple first-person POVs in the same work. Just as a reminder, for story updates and random other stuff, you can find me at RedSuitWriter on tumblr.

_Yang tries to help Weiss and Blake through their nightmares, with limited results._

**Nightmares**

_March 25, 2015_

I barely remember most of my dreams, apart from the odd clip of me flying through the air, or being served eggs by a velociraptor. That was a weird one. It's mostly nonsense; I've never been the kind of person to dream something realistic, to eat breakfast or go to class just to wake up and realize I had to do it again. There are the rare ones, the ones that end with me jerking awake, heart racing until I remember that the swarm of spiders crawling up my legs isn't real. Those have been rarer lately – combination of decent sleep and good company. Having Weiss and Blake in bed with me ... I haven't had a nightmare in months.

But it's not enough for them.

Blake's easier to understand. She still doesn't talk much about her days with those White Fang guys, and I kinda get it. The only family she's ever known and their extremism turns 'em into ... well, monsters. Worse, easily manipulated monsters. I can't imagine what she went through, growing up with all that.

Who wouldn't have nightmares?

She whimpers in her sleep, these little noises from the back of her throat. They'd be adorable, if she didn't look freaked out of her mind whenever she has that dream. I wish she'd tell me what it is, but she never feels like talking, not after. Her ears are always plastered back against her hair, and her legs do this little kicking thing, like she's trying to run away. Wish I knew what from.

At least it's easy enough to fix. Blake's a light sleeper, probably something you pick up when you live outside the kingdoms' protection. Waking her doesn't take much. The problem's just that Blake's a little ... violent when she comes out of that dream. Just a reaction, and one we're working on. Something in her still thinks she's being attacked in her sleep. She caught me in the throat the first time, and between my coughing and cursing and her apologies, we nearly woke Weiss. I've gotten better about blocking the hit. Tried just grabbing her arms once, and she nearly broke my nose with her skull. It was actually pretty funny in hindsight. She always feels terrible after, but I'd much rather get smacked waking her then see Blake like that. She almost tried to stop sleeping with us, until I made it very clear that it was _not _going to happen.

The dream doesn't come back though. Once she snaps out of it, she's safe, at least for the night. I want to think that it reminds her that we're here, that she's safe, but ... It's the one time she lets me pet her, stroking my hands through her hair until she falls asleep. Normally that just puts her on edge – a lifetime of people treating her like an animal – but at night, with us the only two awake, I think she just wants to feel loved. To have someone hold her, touch her.

Weiss, of course, has her own set of issues. She would. The girl doesn't make a sound. You'd never notice she was having a nightmare, no trashing, no mumbled panic or cold sweats. All she does is cry, weeping silently into her pillow in her sleep. I wouldn't have ever noticed, except for the time she fell asleep with her head on on my chest. The tears woke me, the strange feeling of water on my skin.

She said something once. A half-mumbled plea for someone to stay, to not leave. I asked, but she always says she can't remember the nightmare. She's pretty shitty liar.

I woke her up the first few times after that, but she can never fall back asleep, just lies there, scowling. Angry at herself for waking me up, probably. I tried stroking her head, the same stuff I do to Blake, but you know Weiss. Always a unique little snowflake. Finally I settled on wrapping my arms around her and holding her as tightly as I can. It works, mostly. It annoys Blake sometimes, waking up to find the two of us spooning without her. She complains about being left out, but not much, and I think she knows why. Even if Weiss isn't loud enough to rouse her.

The few times that doesn't work, I make sure to wake her up. Weiss always acts annoyed, like I should have just let her sleep through it, but I can tell she blames herself for keeping me up. She stopped complaining when I started kissing her to wake her up, but if anything, it's worse. I know she's awake, but she just lies there, kissing me back, with tears running down her cheeks. After a bit, she'll mutter 'thank you' and roll over, making sure I can't see her face. I always follow, so it ends with me wrapped around her anyway, almost trying to crush her small little frame against me. I'm sure she'd rather be left alone, but I need her to know I'm there. I hate watching her cry.

Neither wants to talk, so I'm left to pet Blake back to sleep, or hold Weiss whenever she starts sobbing. I've been getting a lot less sleep lately, but if I can make their dreams any better, it's so completely worth it.

_\- Yang_

* * *

I hate dreams. They're pointless, nonsensical, and they ruin what little sleep I already get. I hate the lucid ones – it's obvious from that start that it's a dream, that nothing you do in there matters – but the nightmares are the worst.

At least I'm not the only one. Yang woke me up once. She had some dream from one of those horror games she plays, with the ridiculous monster chasing her down a hallway. She laughed and apologized for waking me, then went right back to sleep. Typical. Blake makes these little noises sometimes, but by the time she wakes me, Yang already has it handled. Then it doesn't feel right, coming in at the last second. Yang already sends enough time dealing with me.

My dream changes. Sometimes, they leave. Sometimes there's a fight, or I say something horrible and they can't forgive me, or they realize that they simply don't need me anymore. Or I open my eyes, and they're just not _there_, and no matter how hard I look, I can't find them. No matter how it happens, it's always me, alone, without Blake or Yang, intimately aware of how much I need them and how much I hate that I need them and how useless I am without them.

I don't know how Yang always knows. I _hate_ that she always knows. The first few times, they both slept through it, and I woke up to find them both there, still asleep, still buried under the sheets Blake always tried to steal. Then Yang noticed. The first time, she shook me awake, asked if I'd had a nightmare. The second time, I think she realized it was a recurring problem. Now ... now I wake up to find her kissing me, and all I can think of is how much it hurt not having her there, and I hate myself for ever imagining that they could betray me like that. Then I'm crying, and I can't tell her why. I can't admit how scared I am that they'll leave.

Eventually, it's just too much. At the start, I tried to just turn away. I didn't need her comforting me, and I'd already ruined her sleep.

But since when has Yang _ever_ just done what I wanted? The big dolt hugged me, and held me until I couldn't help but fall asleep. Wonderful, dreamless sleep. She knows just how to do it too, her arm pulling me against her chest, her head tucked against my collarbone while her legs twine around mine. I never have to ask her to, she always just _does_, like she knows what I need, what I really want, without me saying anything.

One night, I finally spoke up. I tried to tell her, I _tried._ I couldn't. I finally managed to choke out a half-threat, telling her to never leave me.

Yang just smiled and kissed me again. "You're stuck with me, Princess."

The dream doesn't come as often anymore. But when it does, Yang is always there, kissing me and holding me until I forget how scared I am of losing her, of losing both of them.

Don't tell Yang, alright?

_\- Weiss_

* * *

I know Yang wanted us to write something. I think the idea was for some sort of catharsis, but ... I can't.

Please don't tell her I couldn't do it. She'll just worry. I'm fine ... I'm just not ready.

I can say this: Thank You. Thank you for being there.

Ruby, your sister and Weiss, they're the best things that could have happened to me. I hope they both know that. And no, Ruby, you can't tell them. I'll make sure they know.

Thanks for putting up with us. Yang is right, you're the best little sister she could hope for.

_\- Blake_


	3. Love and War

Author's note: As a reminder, the FF versions of some of my stories are censored for content that violates their terms of service. The uncensored versions are on my profile at AO3, and you can find the link on my FF profile or on my tumblr.

_Bee'sSchnees plays Risk, with a few extra rules – namely, to the victor go the spoils._

_All the spoils. Let the games begin._

**Love and War**

_April 10th, 2015_

"So how exactly does this work?"

Weiss angled the bowl of limes to sit between the tequila bottle and the boxes of little colored soldiers. The minutemen and cavalry jumped in their plastic containers, rattling slightly as she sat down at the kitchen table. "Same rules as normal, but when you lose one of your countries, you take a shot."

With a shake of her head, Blake joined her, pulling one of the shot glasses over to her place and unboxing the black army. "Where did you even learn this?"

"We business majors have just as much fun as the rest of you."

"While I love how cute Weiss is when she gets drunk, I think we can come up with a better wager." Yang's eyes smoldered, playful lust burning within them as she stared at Weiss. The heiress' throat went dry. She'd seen that look before, mostly after hard days when the brawler wanted nothing more than to work out her frustrations with her girlfriends. The look Yang always had before she pinned Weiss to the wall, kissing and scratching until the business major finally caved. "Maybe something … sexier?"

"… you want to play strip Risk?"

The blonde rolled her eyes, managing to lose none of the luster. "Why? I've seen you naked. I was thinking of something a little more fun."

"And that would be?"

"Winner gets the spoils of conquest." Yellow eyebrows waggled suggestively as Yang leaned forward, the open front of her shirt giving Weiss a particularly nice view, one that the heiress simply refused to let distract her. "_All_ the spoils."

"We're already having sex, Yang."

"Yeah, but the winner gets to try _anything_ they want. Within reason." Yang grinned, bouncing in her chair as she sat down, "Come on. Both of you have at least one fantasy you've wanted to try."

The white-haired woman met Blake's eyes, the gold slits blinking once before the girl bobbed her head to the side. Yang wasn't wrong.

"Come on. If anything makes anyone uncomfortable, we'll stop."

With no objections, Blake dealt the cards, leaving her girlfriends staring each other down, their armies mobilized and ready for deployment. The moment the deck was gone, the more competitive two snatched up their cards, and soon the board was covered in yellow and blue minutemen, the odd horseman prancing confidently atop the board. The black army followed soon after, with the neutral grey popping up at random, splitting the three generals' forces. When the dust settled, Weiss claimed most of Australia as her own, with the rest of her troops scattered across Europe and the Americas. Yellow soldiers held a sturdy power base in Asia and the Middle East, while Blake had dispatched the majority of her troops to Peru.

"So, does anyone want to know what they're in for when I win?" Yang laughed, turning the cavalry unit in Kamchatka to point directly at Weiss' sole Alaskan foot soldier.

"When _you_ win? You put half your troops in Russia. What is it they say about getting involved in a land war in Asia?"

"_When _I win," the blonde grinned, demonic humor twinkling from behind her violet eyes. "I wanna spank Weiss."

"Why do you have this obsession with my ass?'

"It's all the running you do – you have a really cute butt. Six to your one. Plus, it's really fun."

"Then do it with Blake!"

"She doesn't shriek like you do," Yang shrugged and knocked the blue soldier into the Arctic ocean. "And for all the complaints, you admitted you enjoy it. Blake?"

With a smile, the Faunus leaned in, whispering into Yang's ear. Violet eyes went wide, then narrowed to slits, her lips twisting in an almost sadistic grin.

"You know, if we agree on the prize, then all we have to do is take out Weiss."

"You're not suggesting we declare détente and gang up against our girlfriend?" Blake took the red dice from the traitor, pointing menacingly at Brazil.

"Call it the doctrine of Mutually-Assured Gratification, and it wouldn't be the first time."

Weiss gathered up her fallen men, placing them back into rank and file, ready to return to the board. They wanted to turn on a Schnee, huh? They were in for a surprise.

"If this is how you want to play, fine. I'll wipe the board with the both of you. "

"Bring it, Princess!"

* * *

"A little higher."

"I can't believe you let her conquer Australia."

"She started with three of the countries, Yang, and _you_ let her take Asia."

"Which wouldn't have happened if _someone_ hadn't gotten stuck in Egypt."

"Ladies." Weiss interrupted her girlfriends' bickering, snapping her fingers for their attention. "All this anger could be put to much better use. Now take that détente of yours, and get the knots out of my back."

Yang growled, but the hands returned to Weiss' slowly loosening muscles. The triumphant heiress had dragged them to their bed after her victory, collapsing on the mattress while her girlfriends applied themselves to her shoulders and feet, a towel draped modestly across her otherwise naked backside.

"You two are really good at this."

"I hate you. So much."

"Mmm, I know."

"You're evil."

"I knoooow." Weiss purred, eyes sliding shut as the blonde's calloused hands kneaded her shoulders. "Oh don't pout. After this, I promise I'll make it up to both of you." Weiss drew Yang down to her, her body pressing her up into the kiss as their lips met. "I just want to feel pampered first."

Yang broke from the kiss, letting Blake take her place on Weiss' lips as she returned to working the heiress' shoulders, thumbs digging into the tight muscles. "Maybe next time, I'll make _you_ wait on me hand and foot."

"Mmm. Yang?" Weiss pulled away from her Faunus, one hand scratching absently at the other girl's ears.

"Yeah, babe?"

"My lower back's been pretty stiff lately."

"Oh really?"

"Think you could do something about that?"

Yang grinned the suggestion, winking at Blake as she made her way down to their girlfriend's narrow hips, fingertips just brushing the towel that covered the last of Weiss' modesty. Her thumbs dug into the smaller girl's back, grinding and stroking until the knots began to melt. Weiss groaned into Blake's mouth, the brunette's hands running through her long white hair, rubbing circles into her scalp.

"You can go a little lower," she muttered "If you want."

"Thought you weren't happy with my 'obsession.'"

"You're just too … enthusiastic. Be gentle."

Smiling, Yang ran her nails down the hollow of Weiss' back, making the petite girl arch against her fingers, thin white lines turning to pink tracks as blood surged to the abused skin. The heiress whined, burying her face in Blake's neck, only to gasp as the Faunus nipped and sucked along her collarbone.

"Ready for your happy ending?"

"God yes, you tactless dolt."

* * *

Blake crawled back up her body, sharing her with Yang as the two kissed her chest, her neck, nuzzling in the afterglow. "I see our conqueror enjoyed her spoils."

"_Vidi_, _vici_, _veni_ … _veni_, _veni_ again, _ven-_." Weiss slapped the grinning blonde's arm, making her laugh.

"Just once, I'd like to come without you ruining it."

"Aw, you love the puns."

Elbowing Yang aside, Blake leaned in, running her hands through pale hair. "Now, is the conquering hero satisfied with her rewards?"

Quick as lightning, Weiss grabbed the Faunus' shirt, dragging the taller woman down to her, half-ripping the buttons open as she claimed her lips. "Not in the least."


	4. Forgetful

_Weiss is a little busier with work than her girlfriends would like. Yang decides to do something about it._

**Forgetful**

_April 24th, 2015_

The rain gave no sign of letting up, the torrential downpour forcing all but the most waterproof pedestrians inside, huddling under doorways and awnings until they could dive across the sidewalk into newly arrived cabs. The rhythmic pounding rattled against the Schnee corporate building, matched only by the clicking emanating from the fortieth-floor office of one Weiss Schnee. Lacquered fingernails danced across the keyboard as the chief operations officer hammered away, abusing the little black letters with a speed that belied her frustration. The past three hours had been one long string of incompetent contractors, belligerent executives, and staff that seemed generally incapable of rational thought.

Taking a break from beating her keyboard black and blue, Weiss rubbed her fingers across her brows, trying in vain to will her headache away. There was nothing she wanted more than to go home, take a bath, and beg Blake until the Faunus agreed to knead the tension out of her scalp. But there was work to be done, reports to review, and little chance of making it home before midnight.

Her fingers had just returned to the keys when the door handle clicked. "Hey babe."

The tight white bun popped out from behind her computer screen, brows creased behind her glasses as she stared at the blonde woman lounging against her doorframe. Yang was smiling, crossed arms covered by a thigh-length coat still damp from the torrential rain outside, hem clinging to the line of bare skin that showed above the tops of her boots.

"Yang, what are you doing here?"

"Reminding you that you need to splurge a little. You could really use a clock in this office."

Blinking tired eyes, Weiss looked down at the small white digits sitting in her corner of her screen. A small nine winked back, leaving her to curse over the single-mindedness that made her forget the world around her while she worked. "I didn't notice how late it was. If you're here to pick me up, sorry, but I am _completely_ swamped."

Yang snorted, one hand fiddling with the office plant. "Apparently need to get you a calendar too. I'm thinking something with kittens."

Looking down to check the date, Weiss swore, burying her head in her hands. It was Thursday. She couldn't believe she'd forgotten the day.

Her girlfriend kept talking, pushing the door shut before moving to loom over the desk. "Frowny kittens, who get all disappointed when_ someone_ doesn't come home for date night."

"Yang, I am so sorry. I know you and Blake had something planned, I just-"

"Hey, hey." Strong fingers slid into her hair, thumbs rubbing into her temples. Excuses and explanations died on the heiress' lips as Yang worked her fingers through Weiss' hair, pushing and rubbing until her headache vanished. Weiss couldn't help but start to relax, Yang's massage rocking her back and forth in the office chair.

"Bad day?"

Weiss nodded, careful not to go too far from Yang's circling fingers. It wasn't Blake's, but it was more than enough to take the edge off, to make her feel human. Clearly the blonde had been practicing.

Lips brushed the top of her head as Yang leaned in. Weiss thought about objecting as Yang pulled her glasses off, and decided she didn't care once the calloused fingers circled lower over her temples, making her eyes drift shut. "Weiss, it's fine. We know you're busy, that work's hell right now. If anything, it's giving me and Blake lots of quality time after work." The blonde grinned, teeth flashing as her hand ran through the heiress' fine hair. "We're just asking for one night a week, at least until you make it through this. It feels weird not having you around."

"I'm still sorry." Weiss let herself lean into Yang's hand before pulling away, sliding her glasses back onto the bridge of her nose. "Thanks for coming. And for fixing my headache. I'll make it up to you both once I get the buy-out finalized."

Blonde hair and brown coat pulled back, lilac eyes narrowing as Yang looked down at Weiss in disbelief. "Wait. That's it?"

"I really _am _swamped with work."

"Uh huh." Yang nodded, her jaw shifting as her stubborn gear kicked in. "You know, Blake said to just leave it alone. She thinks you have enough to deal with – that you don't mean to forget us." Grabbing the end of her coat's belt, Yang started to undo the knot, pulling until the ends came loose. "She's more forgiving than I am. Me, I think you need a reminder."

With a flick of her wrists, the coat hit the floor, leaving Yang standing contrapposto on the office carpet, brown leather boots covering her calves and nothing else. Tan skin glistened, just barely damp from the rain outside. "So, do you have anything to say for yourself?'

"… If you speed, we'll home in fifteen minutes." Weiss' keys were already in her hand, documents saved and computer off. "But you're dropping me off early tomorrow morning."

Yang grinned that impossible grin, and threw the coat back over herself. "See, I knew you were smart."


	5. Bad Day

Author's note: As a reminder, the FF versions of some of my stories are censored for content that violates their terms of service. The uncensored versions are on my profile (of the same name) at AO3, and you can find the link on my FF profile or on my tumblr.

_Yang comes home after a particularly rough day, only to find her girlfriends waiting and ready to take care of her. 2nd-person POV, Bee's Schnees fluff._

**Bad Day**

_May 5th, 2015_

You know Yang's had a hard day when she doesn't greet you once she gets home. Not that she would admit it – Yang likes to think that a wide enough smile will cover whatever she's going through. She _should_ know better. While that might be good enough for Ruby, maybe even her dad, you and Weiss wrote the damn book when it comes to hiding your emotions.

So, when she comes home, and her bellowed greeting lacks the punch it normally carries, her voice a few decibels shy of normal, you know something is wrong. She still smiles when she sees you, but when the grin wavers just a little, you know it's something bad. When she flops on the sofa and just stares blankly at the wall, not even bothering to grab the remote, you know it was really bad. Not much bothers Yang this much; the punch-happy blonde tends to skip sadness or depression and jump straight to anger.

You give her a moment before you join her, letting her sink into the cushions, trying to forget whatever's bothering her. Then you sit beside her on the couch, curling into her side with your head resting on one muscled shoulder. She tenses a little at first, determined not to show that anything could be wrong, at least until she realizes you aren't asking. You know Yang won't talk about it. Not yet, anyway. But you can still be here for her, still let her know she's loved, that people care for her. Eventually, her head slips down to rest atop your own, her fingers twining their way between yours.

You shift, legs curling against the armrest as you lay your head in her lap. She stiffens for a second, her thighs tensing under your skin, before one hand gingerly reaches down to touch your hair. You can't completely keep your jaw from clenching as a calloused hand brushes by your ears, memories of far less gentle tugs and twists rushing back to haunt you. But Yang remembers what you've told her, slowly stroking through your hair, melting the stress away until you relax against her leg. You keep your face away from hers for now, your eyes closed as she her hand moves ever closer to your ears. The motion is hesitant, careful, but when you don't flinch away, she eases into the petting, relieved that you're allowing her to do this.

Yang knows better than to touch your ears, at least not without your express permission. You're happy she finds them attractive, but you hate the purring. Not that you do it, but that you can't control it. You've spent a lifetime fighting people who reduced you down to those few animal instincts; it takes a lot to let yourself give in to them. That you know Yang likes them for being a part of you, that she avoids them normally because you want her to, that when it happens it's on _your _terms – it makes it better. Easier, at least, although you wish she wouldn't do the thing where she brushes the inside just to make you twitch. Nails dig into her leg a little, a quiet reminder for her to follow the rules, but then her fingers gently scratch at the base where they meet your skull, and your eyes drift shut. A soft rumbling comes from your throat, your chest vibrating as you start to purr. You sit with her for a while, purring quietly while she scratches your ears, close enough that you can still hear her heart beating in her chest, slower and slower as she starts to finally relax.

"Feel better?" you ask, turning just enough to see her face out of one opened eye.

"A little." At least she's smiling now, looking a little happier as your purrs get a little louder.

"Do you want to talk about it?"

Yang shakes her head, fingers rubbing at your ears. You're not surprised; she sees herself as the 'comforter' in any relationship, which probably comes from taking care of her family after Summer died. Yang's always the one looking after others – after Ruby, after Weiss, even after you sometimes. So you're more than happy to give her a reminder that even the great Yang Xiao Long needs help sometimes.

You push yourself off her leg, feeling the blonde wilt a little before she realizes you're just changing positions. You crawl into her lap until your chest presses against hers, elbows balancing on the back of the couch while your hands run through her long, golden hair.

You pull away, just a little, and she looks down long enough for you to capture her lips with yours. She melts beneath you, soft and vulnerable and all the things she normally isn't. Under any other circumstances, Yang is the demanding one, all furious kisses and roaming hand. There's a part of her that likes control, but more than that, she likes _giving_.

Not tonight. Tonight, it's Yang that needs to be taken care of, to be held and kissed and reminded that there are two women in her life that would do just about anything for her.

She breaks away, pulling in one short, fast breath, and you pull just out of reach of her lips.

"Yang, if you don't want this right now, we can just-"

"No, I ... I kinda need this."

There's an unspoken request in her voice, and you smile at the fact that even after a year of dating and months of living together, Yang is still this awkward about genuinely wanting something for herself. Not that it matters. You know what she's asking for.

"Weiss will be home in an hour."

"Okay." Then she buries her head against your neck, her arms clutching you to her.

You shift around, not away – her arms locked behind your back keep you from going too far – just enough to settle on the couch and reach for the remote. You shrink down just a little, enough for your head to slip beneath her chin, your back pressed against her as you curl up alongside. Throwing on some talk show you both can stand, you take her chin in your hand, guiding her lips to yours before placing her hands back on your ears.

You can feel her smile through the kiss, and she starts petting in earnest, kissing you deeper as that soft rumbling rises in your chest. The quiet talking slips into white noise as the rest of the world fades but for you and her, lying on the couch as you purr against her chest.

Eventually, you hear the key in the lock, sitting up as Weiss starts to come in the door, kicking snow from her boots. One look at you and Yang, and Weiss knows, already dropping her bags by the door and curling up on the couch, ignoring the wrinkles she must be putting in her suit. Within seconds, she has Yang moving to make room for her, kisses pressed against the brawler's neck. It's always amusing to see tiny little Weiss dwarfed by the tall, leggy blonde, but within seconds, the smaller woman has Yang wrapped around her little finger.

"She's not going to say what happened, is she?" Weiss asks, looking at you over one muscled shoulder.

"Apparently not."

Weiss rolls her eyes before snuggling insistently against Yang's side, one hand stroking her hair. Then she takes Yang's chin in her hands, a little of the fire coming back to Yang's eyes as Weiss yanks her down to look at her.

"You dolt."


	6. Dreamcatcher

_Continuation of **Nightmares**. After Weiss wakes up in the middle of the night, again, Yang tries to help her through whatever is bothering her. 100% comforting Fluff._

**Dreamcatcher**

_June 8th, 2015_

Weiss woke in a cold sweat, heart hammering in her chest, tears running down her face as she struggled with the sheets, kicking and fighting in her need to get free. The blankets were too tight, too hot around her, trapping her legs and pinning her against the bed. She lashed out, clawing at the constricting linen until two strong, unmovable arms wrapped around her chest, pinning her in place against the larger body behind her.

"Weiss, it's okay," Yang said, her voice barely a whisper against Weiss' neck. "It's just me. You're safe."

Forcing herself to breathe, Weiss felt the panic slowly slipping away, replaced immediately with guilt over having woken Yang. Again. For the third time in as many days.

Grabbing the edge of her pillow, she buried her face in the soft linen, drying her eyes and hiding her shame from the blonde currently half-spooning, half-crushing her in an attempt at comfort.

"Sorry," Weiss mumbled.

"Don't be. It's not your fault." Yang's grip loosened, and Weiss felt the blonde pushing softly against her back as Yang slipped out from under the covers. "Come on, I wanted to get up anyway."

Weiss reached over and clicked the power button on her phone, sitting in its charging station. "You wanted to be up at three in the morning?"

"Yup," Yang whispered, lying through her teeth. "Don't wake Blake."

Moving as quietly as she could, Weiss followed Yang out into the living room and let the blonde guide her towards the couch. Her head ached, a dull throb that sat right behind her eyes. _Which happens after three days with little sleep,_ she thought, grinding the base of her palm against her temple.

Yang returned, a spare fleece blanket looted from the hall closet. Clambering around Weiss, the blonde wriggled down onto the loveseat, dragging the ottoman closer with her foot. Gentle but insistent, the brawler tugged and pulled until Weiss was leaning up against her, the fleece tucked around their sides.

Weiss huffed as the fuzz of the blanket tickled her chin. "What is it with you and these?"

"They're soft, fuzzy, and warm. What's not to love?" Even without looking, Weiss could feel Yang's grin behind her. "Headache?"

"I'm fine."

"Liar. You want me to help?"

"... only because I don't feel like arguing."

Yang snorted and pressed her fingers against the heiress' temples. Gentle and slow, she drew little circles against the sides of her head, slowly working at the tension. Weiss let her eyes drift shut, her body finally relaxing as Yang worked, slowly making her way down to Weiss' neck before digging her thumbs into the heiress' shoulders. _She really has gotten good at this._

"Thanks. That's better," Weiss said with sigh. "I just need an Advil."

"What you need is a full night's sleep."

"It is not for lack of trying."

"Yeah, 'bout that." Reaching over to the coffee table, Yang grabbed at something Weiss couldn't quite see, before pulling most of her arm back beneath the blanket. Squinting against the darkness, Weiss realized Yang held a thin cardboard box, maybe the size of her hand. Inside the box sat a small ring, four inches across at most, wrapped in leather and bound tightly with webbing, little feathers and beads set into some of the strings.

"A dreamcatcher? Really? I'm not a child, Yang."

"I'm not suggesting you hang it up." Weiss could feel Yang's chest rise and fall as she breathed, staring past her at the little box. "This was my Mom's. I found it in the attic when I was hunting for some sign of her. My dad ... he never really wanted to talk, but uncle Qrow admitted it was hers, from when she was a kid."

"You don't talk about her much."

"Yeah well, it took me a _long_ time before I could see something like this and not get pissed. For a while, it was just a reminder that she walked out of my life."

"And now?"

"Oh, I'm still pissed." Yang laughed quietly, the short little bark she did when she was trying to hide her anger. "Part of me hoped that she left for a reason. That maybe it wasn't her fault, that she didn't have a choice. But from how much it hurt Dad, the fact that he still can't talk about her ... half of me wants to find her, hug her, and hear her say that she always loved me. That she didn't want to leave. The other half just wants to punch her in the face."

Violet eyes glanced back down at the box in front of them. "Hell, I'm not even sure if she _liked_ this, or if it was some random gift from her childhood that got left up there. Qrow thinks their parents hung it over her crib, but he can't really remember where it's from. The damn thing's a made-in-China dime-store piece of junk, and a mildly offensive one at that. But, it's one of the few things I have of her." As gentle as she could, Yang took Weiss' hand and wrapped it around the box. "And I want you to have it."

"Yang, I can't-"

"Look, I'm not asking you to hang it up or anything, and I'm not expecting that it'll fix this, but ..." Yang paused, jaw working as she fumbled for the right words. "Weiss, you and Blake matter more to me than anything. I mean, I'm not _happy_ about the whole abandonment-issues thing, and I definitely would have liked to know my own goddamn mother, but," she hesitated again before squeezing Weiss a little tighter. "If I had to pick between being with you and knowing her, I will always choose you."

Weiss bit her lip. "This isn't really about your mother is it?"

"Only kinda," Yang admitted, suddenly sheepish. "I've mostly made my peace with that bullshit by now. But just because I don't really need to talk about it doesn't mean that you don't need to hear me talk about it." The blonde paused, head cocked. "Did that make any sense?"

"Not at all. And yes." Weiss felt her smile start to slip away, the pit in the bottom of her stomach opening again. "How much do you know?"

"A little. You mutter sometimes, when you're dreaming."

Wonderful. Simply wonderful.

"Weiss," Yang said, wriggling her arms under the blanket to hug Weiss a little tighter. "These nightmares, they've been getting worse lately. When you work late, you're fine. But when you don't pass out from exhaustion ..." Yang trailed off, not needing to say what happened almost every night the heiress didn't collapse after work. "I mean, if you don't want to talk about it, I won't ask. It's just ... I'm not gonna push you, I just hate not being able to help."

"You _do_ help, Yang."

"You know what I mean. I wish I could just _fix_ it, and I know I can't, but still ..."

They sat there for a while, staring off into the darkness, warm and secure under the blanket. Yang's chest rose and fell as she breathed, pressing up against Weiss' back and reminding her that the blonde was still there.

"You want me to tell you."

"I'm trying not to push."

"You're 'trying not to push' very loudly."

"You've always said that I don't do 'subtle.'"

Weiss huffed and wriggled away until she could look Yang in the eyes. She needed the space. It would be hard enough to admit that her brain was haunting her with the idea that Yang could betray her, could leave her. She really didn't need to feel Yang's revulsion when she told her. Seeing it would be bad enough.

"You left," Weiss finally said, taking long, controlled breaths to keep her throat from closing.

"I what?"

"In the dream." She tried looking Yang in the eyes, and failed, and settled for staring down at the box resting in Yang's hand. "You left. I came home, and you were gone. You and Blake. No note, no explanation. You realized you didn't need me, didn't want me, and you left."

"I tried to call, but you wouldn't answer, and when you did-" No. Not that. Yang didn't need to know the crap that her brain had stirred up, the things the nightmare had made her girlfriends say. "No matter how it happens, it's always me, alone, without you or Blake and I just-" Her voice broke, and she swallowed, needing to get through this, to say everything before she lost the nerve. "This – us, you and Blake – this is the first in a long time that I have actually been happy, and I am terrified of losing you. Both of you. And I feel awful that I could even think that you would-"

Yang cut her off with a bone-breaking hug, her face buried in Weiss' shoulder.

"Weiss, do you think that after losing my mom, losing Summer, that I would ever let go of you by choice?" If anything, the hug got tighter, making it hard for Weiss to even breathe as Yang pinned the heiress against her. "The only way you're getting rid of me is if _you_ kick me out."

"I know. I do. But some part of me is terrified that it might happen."

"As for us not needing you," Yang continued, as if not hearing her. "I _need_ you. I need the person who groans at my puns, but still tries making one when I need cheering up. I need the girl who organizes _everything_. I need the woman who has to fight not to pounce on me when I come home from the gym, and yes, I noticed. Why do you think I work out more often when I know you'll be home? I _need_ you. As much as I need Blake. You gotta know she feels the same way."

"... thanks, Yang."

"Plus, your name's on the lease and I don't feel like moving."

"Ass. Always have to ruin the moment."

Yang finally loosened the hug, pulling back enough that she could look Weiss in the face. "Weiss Schnee, I love you, and until you tell me to go, I will always be here for you."

Weiss tried to speak, fighting against the tightness in her throat and the pressure building behind her eyes. She settled for trying to crack Yang's ribs, arms wrapped around Yang's chest as tightly as she could, burying her face in the taller woman's shoulder.

"You better," she finally said, her voice tight and raspy.

Yang laughed and hugged her back. "And I know you love me too."

"You're assuming a lot."

"Uh huh. Someone who doesn't love me wouldn't hunt down the one part I need to fix my bike. They don't let one of their girlfriends turn the guest room into a library, and they definitely don't surprise me with fajitas for dinner despite the fact that they aren't fans of Mexican food. Not to mention the mysteriously replenishing supply of tuna in the pantry."

"Lies and slander."

Another laugh tickled her ear, but Yang stopped her teasing, content to simply sit. They stayed there for a while, Weiss waiting for Yang to pull away, to let go, or decide that it was past time for the hug to end. It didn't come. The blonde stayed put, perfectly still, just holding her beneath that ridiculous fluffy blanket, listening to the rhythm of her breath.

Weiss smiled, glad that her face was hidden by the shadows and the blonde's muscled shoulder. Yang wasn't letting go.

Eventually, she pulled away, after her face was composed and set, no longer in danger of tears of sniffles. The arms around her back loosened, only for one hand to take hold of hers.

"Come on. Let's get you a few more hours of sleep."

Weiss nodded. As quietly as they could, and more or less letting Yang lead her by the hand, the two made their way back to the bedroom, the blonde somehow managing to hit two of thee creaky floorboards on the way. Yang didn't let go of her the entire way, until finally lifting the bedsheets and waving Weiss inside.

"You first."

"Really? You always say my side is too cold."

"I'll live. You're in the middle tonight. Get in."

Surrendering, Weiss slipped beneath the covers, scooting deeper into the bed before Yang climbed in behind her, crammed against the edge of the bed.

"Weiss, scoot over. Blake won't bite. Not right now, anyway"

"I don't want to wake her."

"Bit late for that." A third voice joined theirs, making both young women cringe. Looking up, Weiss found two golden eyes almost glowing in the darkness, blinking sleeping beneath half-lowered lids. "You okay, Weiss?"

She nodded. "I am now."

"Okay. You can tell me tomorrow." One arm reached out, crooking behind her head and pulling Weiss down onto the mattress. Shifting beneath the sheets, Blake butted her head against Weiss', before settling with her head pressed against her shoulder. "Now sleep."

Seconds later, an arm reached out to pull her close, one leg tucking in around her own as the blonde snuggling in against her back. Weiss lay there, trapped, crammed between the bodies of her girlfriends, with barely enough room to breathe, and feeling unbelievably happy.

At least until someone decided to whisper in her ear. "Weiss cream sandwich."

"You are so _annoying_ sometimes."

"Well, I promise to annoy you till the day you kick me out."

"... and if I don't?"

"Then I'm not going anywhere, Princess."


	7. Trust

Writer's Note: So, a bit of explanation. Distractions shares an AU with Vigilante. The thing is, sometimes I feel like just writing some character-based fluff and nothing really plot-heavy, which often means that I'm writing fairly far in the future of the AU, since I decided to go with consistent updates over chronological content. Distractions is mostly about snapshots in Blake, Weiss, and Yang's relationship, and Vigilante is/will be more about their relationship starting. At some point, I'll be going back and moving some of these chapters into the main Vigilante work (just some, not all). This is one of those, and shows the three women before they actually started their relationship.

**Trust**

_February 2nd, 2015_

"What the _hell_ is wrong with you?" A shrill voice shrieked, a scant few bars short of shattering glass. "You are _barely_ able to walk upright and the _first_ thing you do is run off and nearly get yourself killed!"

Blake rubbed the bridge of her nose between her thumb and forefinger, seriously reconsidering the notion of visiting Yang at the apartment she currently shared with Weiss. _Well, more 'freeloaded at' than 'shared,' _she thought, one hand still fiddling with the door handle.

Under normal conditions, she would just give the two women their space. They had known each other far longer than she had; they should be capable of working through whatever row they were having. 'Should' being the operative word. Still, if Weiss was this angry, there was bound to be a fairly good reason. Especially considering the blonde probably being screamed at.

Leaving her borrowed key by the door – the one Weiss had loaned her after Blake picked the lock one too many times – the black-haired Faunus steeled herself for the oncoming warzone, and walked into the apartment.

I found Yang propped up against the kitchen counter, her jaw clenched tight, the way it got when she was doing her best to hide her pain. Weiss was screaming at her, needle and thread in hand as she furiously did her best to repair the stitches Yang had managed to tear. Again.

The shorter woman was still mid-tirade, working quickly and glaring up at the blonde all the while. "First, it was your damn need to work out _constantly_, and now you're already out doing god-knows-what, when the only place you should be right now is bed. You. Moron!"

Apparently satisfied at the state of Yang's wounds, Weiss re-did the dressing, then hurled the bloodstained supplies into the trash.

The heiress spun, and found Blake standing in the entryway, gold eyes glinting as she watched the two. Turning a pink that the Faunus suspected had very little to do with her anger, Weiss threw herself at the faucet, scrubbing furiously at her hands before making for the door.

"Good. You're here. Since apparently she won't listen to _me_, maybe _you_ can get her to see sense!" Red-faced and fuming, the heiress stormed out of the room, hands clenched in a desperate bid to keep from wrapping them around Yang's throat.

Blake waited until she heard a door slam before making her way over to the injured blonde. Yang hadn't moved, still sitting in a chair, head propped up on one elbow. Her mouth, normally grinning in a state of near-constant amusement, was one thinly-pressed line of pain.

"Headache or stitches?"

"Mostly the stitches," Yang said with a grimace, wincing as she reached for the little orange bottle of painkillers her doctor had prescribed. Popping one of the pills into her mouth, she swallowed, her arm returning to press gingerly against the wound in her side. "So ... she's mad."

"With reason." Blake drawled, eyeing the dressing herself. Given Weiss' recently developed skill in field medicine, she wasn't too worried, but it couldn't hurt to make sure Yang wasn't in danger of bleeding out. "It sounds like you very nearly got yourself killed. Again."

"I'm fine." Leaning heavily against the counter, the blonde tried to push herself up with one arm, her muscles straining, the failing to hold her weight. Rolling her eyes, Blake gingerly wrapped her arm under her shoulders, letting Yang lean on her as she walked them slowly to Weiss' sofa.

"No, you're not. You're barely standing, and ... what were you doing, exactly?"

"Saw a purse snatcher. Figured I could at least catch _him_."

"That isn't the way to help yourself heal," Blake sighed, letting the brawler's grip crush her fingers as she lowered the blonde onto the couch. "You're lucky you just ripped your stitches."

"I needed to do _something_."

"A feeling I understand. But if you start going stir-crazy again, _call me. _I'm sure I can find some board game to keep you occupied."

Yang huffed a pained little laugh, her still-cracked rib and the stitches in her side complaining at the motion. Holding her hand until the pain passed, Blake sat down beside the wounded girl. With an appreciative grunt, Yang's head flopped onto the Faunus' shoulder, blonde hair splayed across the back of the couch.

"Hey, can I ask a favor?" the blonde asked, muttering against Blake's arm.

"That depends. I'm not helping you sneak out to play superhero."

"Nah. Just ... tell me if it's asking too much, but can I ..." Yang shifted to look up at her. "Can I touch your ears?"

Of all the requests Blake expected, this hadn't been on the list. For her to stay, sure. Maybe for Blake to do something to keep Yang occupied, to keep her from being bored out of her mind, but this ...

Yang kept talking, babbling on while the Faunus mulled over the request. "It's just there's a lot of research stuff says the vibrations from cats help you heal faster or something, and I figured maybe-"

"That it would be therapeutic?"

"Something like that." She grinned sheepishly, and Blake cursed the blonde's ability to look endearing and guilty at the same time. "Sorry if I shouldn't have asked."

"Yang, my ears are ... it's complicated."

The blonde nodded, shifting further away on the couch. "I'm sorry. Forget I asked."

"No, it's ... Look, it's not universal, but for some Faunus, things like their ears or a tail ... trusting someone with them is a very," she paused, trying to phrase it tactfully. "It's a very _i__ntimate_ act."

"Oh."

"Yeah. Outside of the whole trust issue, my ears are like any humans'. You don't exactly run around letting people tickle yours. We're not ... there. Yet."

"Yet?"

"You heard me, Miss Hero." Blake let her head rest atop Yang's for a minute, breathing in the blonde's scent. Gunpowder and citrus, mixed with sweat from the dressing across her chest. "But, I do have an idea that could work for the both of us."

"And that is?"

"You let me brush your hair."

* * *

I froze, my head still cradled against Blake's shoulder.

I've always been cautious about my hair. Weiss would say obsessive, although she'd say it with that little smirk that means she knows I'd rather be teased about it than pitied. Blake gets it. Blake understands not having a parent, and how something as simple as a haircut – something that you share with them – can mean so much to you. She understands why I'm reluctant to change it, ever since I found the picture of my mother when she was young, wild hair splayed around her face.

I haven't let anyone touch my hair after that. I cut it myself, brush it myself, style it myself. Since I came back, I've let it grow as long as it could, tired of military regulations and keeping it in a tight knot at the back of my neck. It's a lengthy, massive, wild mess, and one that I wouldn't change for anything. No one touches it but me, and most of my friends are smart enough not to bring it up.

She has a point though. For her, there can't be much that's more vulnerable, more trusting, than letting me pet her ears. It might not be the same – we both have more than enough reasons for our respective intimacy issues – but the similarity is there.

I _could_ refuse. I know she'd understand, which was probably the point. Something just as personal, just as dangerous to give away. It'd take a lot of trust to pass that privilege to someone else. Still ... I can't ask for that trust from her and then deny it myself.

Swallowing to clear my throat, I nodded, and said the one word I couldn't have imagined myself saying.

"Okay."

Blake stiffened, just for a moment. I think she'd honestly expected me to say no. Then she slipped out from under me, settled me against the cushions, and went for a brush.

Honestly, it was ... different.

It had been years since I let anyone do this. Not since Summer died. Not since I found out about my birth mother – since I found her photo hidden away under a toolbox in the attic. I vaguely remember Summer giving me pigtails when I was young, an older me teaching Ruby how to do them herself. I remember big hands guiding mine around straw-colored hair, smaller ones trying the motions on mine before we messed with my sister's brown locks. But this ...

Blake had definitely used the right word. It absolutely qualified as 'intimate.'

Blake's touch was not the gentle reassurance of a mother, or the playful tugging of a sister. I winced at the first few tentative pulls of the brush - not from pain, although I almost expected it.

I could smell her behind me, lavender and the scent of old books still clinging faintly to her hands. Each stroke of her palm sent shivers down my spine, each touch of her hand made my heart pound in my chest. There was something about it, about giving Blake this level of control over something that important to me. Of being at her mercy. The feeling was intoxicating, somehow managing to be both relaxing and stimulating, simultaneously calming me down and driving me nuts as she worked.

If Blake noticed the effect she was having on me, she didn't acknowledge it, her other hand steadily smoothing the locks straightened by the brush. Her fingers tugged and twisted from one side to the other, working their way through yellow tangles and golden curls. Her controlling grip teased it into shape, braiding it into one long rope that lay in her capable hands.

Then she was done, her hands pulling away as the long braid laid along my spine.

"Does it hold up to your standards?" she asked, hands resting on my shoulders, her mouth barely an inch from my ear.

I looked up at her, calm golden eyes staring down at me. Unreadable, like always. She was so close. I could make out the mascara on her eyelashes, the touch of pink around her lips. I leaned back, my mouth just slightly open, waiting and welcoming ...

And felt her fingers stop my lips.

I jerked away, the motion making my ribs twinge. I coughed, trying to focus on anything other than the blast of embarrassment rushing through me.

"Sorry, I guess I read the signals wrong. I shouldn't have-"

"It's not that, trust me." Blake stepped back, looking almost as awkward as I felt. "I ... I made a promise to someone. One that you really do want me to keep."

I stared at her quizzically, waiting for an explanation that didn't come.

"Plus," she continued. "If we do this, I doubt either of us will be able to stop."

"Not sure I'd want to." I muttered, somewhat mollified by the knowledge that she _did_ seem to want this too. Just not now.

"... three weeks. If you can wait three weeks, we'll talk. Or not. Your choice." Blake hesitated, then pushed one last curl of blonde hair behind my ear, her hand lingering on my face. Then her expression hardened, lips pursed as she glared down at me.

"But let me be clear. You go out on your own again, and after Weiss is finished ripping you a new one, I will handcuff you to your bed until you're healed. Understand, Xiao Long?"

"You know, that doesn't actually sound that bad."

Blake let out the groan she normally reserved for my puns. Flopping down on the sofa, she cautiously leaned against my shoulder, waiting to make sure she wasn't putting pressure on my ribs. "You are not going to make this next month easy for me, are you?"

I grinned, nuzzling a little deeper against her. "I'll be good. I may not get what you're up to, but I trust you."

"Yeah, I suppose you do." She just sat there for a moment, lost in thought and staring blankly at the wall. Something brushed my hand, and I looked down to see her fingers uncertainly wrapping around mine.

Slowly, carefully, Blake gripped my hand and raised it to her head. She gingerly pressed my fingers against one of her ears, the pads of my fingertips just barely brushing the black fur.

I tried to meet her eyes, watching her expression and waiting for some sign of what she wanted me to do. Cautiously, I flexed, her ear twitching at my touch, then scratched lightly at the spot where the ear met her skull. Blake held me there for a minute, then just as suddenly pulled me away, her face several shades redder.

"Three weeks," she said, and rose to leave. "Be nice to Weiss."

"I know, she worries about me."

For a moment, I could have sworn Blake was about to say something, her mouth already open before she could catch herself. Then she shook her head, sighing as she moved to the door. "Get some sleep."

Then she was gone, and all that remained was the memory of her hands on my hair, and the scent of lavender and old paper lingering in the air.

I had a feeling that sleep would be a long time coming.


	8. Sabbatical

**Writer's Note: As a reminder, this is the 'clean', censored version of this chapter. Those who are interested will be able to find the uncensored version on AO3.**

* * *

**Sabbatical**

_June 19__th__, 2015_

Yang waited until Weiss closed the door before she began shedding her clothes _everywhere_. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw the shorter executive shake her head at the daily routine, dropping her keys in the basket by the door. Hopping one-legged out of the dark slacks, the blonde dove into the bedroom, sighing with relief as the annoying garments fell defeated to the floor. While she understood the need to dress _somewhat _professionally as the bodyguard of Schnee Dust's CEO, that didn't mean that she had to _like_ it. Especially not the damn tie. At least _that _could come off in the car. She had to wait until they were home to toss the stupid jacket over a kitchen chair and dive into the bedroom, clothes flying this way and that until she emerged in a loose black tank and shorts.

Grinning at her newfound freedom, Yang ignored her shorter girlfriend's glare and dutifully gathered up the remnants of her suit, hanging them properly in the closet before flopping down on the couch. Reaching over, she grabbed the little black controller resting atop their entertainment system and pressed the polished button that would jumpstart the gaming console.

She watched as the blue-tinted menu filled Weiss' flatscreen, tapping her foot as she listened to the starting hum of Playstation background music. If she hurried, she could probably finish one of the new heists while the white-haired woman dove into her nightly pile of paperwork, which would give Yang just enough time to get dinner ready. It was Friday, which meant it was _her _night to cook. One of those nights when take-out menus and crockpots were exiled from sight, and the mere mention of TV dinners was met with outrage and unbridled fury. When the kitchen transformed undeniably into _her _domain, into which neither Blake nor Weiss would dare enter without permission.

_Technically_ she'd prepped the lasagna the night before, but that just counted as good planning. They'd even have plenty of leftovers afterwards with Blake off on one of her special 'errands.' All she really had to do was heat the oven and let it bake for an hour or so. Maybe make some garlic bread ... but with the amount of work Weiss normally brought home, Yang figured she'd have time for a quick mission or two.

Which was why she was so surprised to find herself interrupted mere minutes after starting the game. As soon as the online screen had loaded, Weiss joined her on the couch, tucking her legs up and settling comfortably into Yang's lap. Shifting her hips, the heiress snuggled closer, breathing deep as she buried her face in Yang's hair.

Well. That was alright then. If Weiss wanted a little 'us' time before she dove into her work, that was fine with Yang. Wriggling a little deeper into the couch, she reached her arms around Weiss, exiting the menu and immediately car-jacking a hipster driving a Ferrari he truly didn't deserve.

"I want sex."

It took a second for the melted synapses in Yang's brain to repair themselves. The blonde sat stupefied, half-convinced that there was no possible way Weiss could have said what Yang had just heard. Distracted, she barely noticed as the Ferrari careened off the side of the road, flipping end over end before crashing onto the highway below.

"Sorry, what?" she asked, ignoring the screams of passersby and the horns of nearby drivers.

The white-haired executive pulled back just far enough to look down at Yang, ice-blue eyes staring into her own with complete sincerity.

"You heard me." Face still somber, Weiss leaned back against Yang's chest, fitting her head into the hollow of her neck and breathing against the blonde's exposed neck.

Yang hit the central button on the black controller, suddenly caring a lot less about potentially getting mugged. Waiting for her cerebrum to finish rebooting, she set the contraption aside, using the process of turning everything off as an excuse to buy some time.

"You know," she started, once the system had shut down. "That's not really how this works."

"Excuse me?" the heiress popped up, one thin brow arching as she stared at her.

"Look," Yang said, hands settling on her girlfriend's arms. "We have a nice system worked up for this sort of thing. It's really best if we stick to it."

Blue eyes narrowed as Weiss glared down at her, hackles already raised. "What system?"

"Well, after dinner, you put on one of those cute little nighties that comes down about an inch past your ass. Blake and I notice, but you complain and argue about 'having to work' – despite the fact that you only wear the short dresses when you _really_ want attention – and you keep protesting until we get you into the bedroom." Yang shrugged and pretended to reach for the controller again, careful to keep her face perfectly straight. "It's good system."

Weiss, on the other hand, was in full-on scowl, her eyes shooting daggers at Yang as she crossed her arms beneath her breasts.

"... that is _not_ what happens."

Yang raised one blonde eyebrow and reached for her phone. "You know, Blake's busy, but I can still text her. She'll get it eventually."

Weiss said nothing, but the fury radiating from her told Yang all she needed to know. Suppressing her grin, the brawler pulled up her phone's chat function, the on-screen keys clicking as she typed.

"Hey, babe ... settle a bet. What does Weiss do when she's feeling needy?"

"Don't you dare-"

Yang let her grin spread across her cheeks and jauntily tapped the screen. "And send."

"You little-!" Weiss cried, the string of insults cut short as she dived for Yang's phone. The blonde let her fight for it, surrendering once the heiress had tackled her backwards onto the couch. Grinning, she stared up at the smaller woman, watching her frantically flick through the phone, trying to find a message Yang had never sent.

Realizing she'd been had, Weiss glared down at her in abject fury, her face only growing redder as Yang's face split in a positively shit-eating grin. One hand slapped at the brawler's muscled arm, only making the blonde grin wider as she tugged Weiss down on top of her and pulled her into a kiss.

Still annoyed, it took the shorter woman several seconds to relax, reluctantly leaning into the caress as calloused fingers slipped through fine white tresses to cup the back of her head. Yang apologized with her lips and hands, soft and gentle after drawing her girlfriend's ire with her teasing. When they finally split, Weiss' face was still red, although Yang had a sneaking suspicion the color wasn't just from anger.

"You're awful," the heiress breathed, trying to scowl, but showing absolutely no intention of moving from her current position atop Yang's chest. Her smaller breasts pressed through her blouse against the blonde's, and Yang could tell that if they laid like that any longer, wrinkles would start forming in Weiss' otherwise impeccable clothes. Not that Yang minded, but surprisingly, it seemed that Weiss shared her disinterest for once.

"I realize I may be a little predictable-" the heiress started, glaring again as a chuckle from Yang cut her off.

"A _little_?" the blonde managed, biting the inside of her cheek to keep from outright laughing.

"Do you want to have sex ever again? Because at the rate you're going-"

Yang reached over, hands wrapping around Weiss' tight waist, and pressed her lips to the side of her neck. It was the blonde's favorite apology, and Weiss' too, from the speed at which her scowl faded.

"Can I ask what brought this on?" Yang asked, her face still buried against pale skin.

"Work was tiring, I'm wound up, you're hot ... a dozen different reasons, all of which are embarrassing, and _you're doing this on purpose_," Weiss growled, pitching up into something resembling a moan.

"I am, but I've seen you tired before, and I've seen you wound up before. You're not usually the one who outright _asks_ for sex." At Weiss' glare, Yang cocked her head to the side and shrugged. It wasn't her fault that her teasing had a fairly substantial basis in fact. "Your M.O. is hints and acting annoyed when we don't pick up on them. Which Blake and I think is pretty cute, by the way. Our little _tsundere_."

"Fuck you, Yang."

Another kiss to her neck, although it took longer for the tension to slip from Weiss' shoulders this time, which was fair. Yang knew how much she hated being reduced to what she saw as an overused cliché, despite how apt the description might sometimes be.

"In the interest of us trying to be more honest with each other, you wanna tell me what's up?" Yang asked, concern mixing with the amusement on her face. "Is it one of those dreams again?"

"No, it ... maybe on some level." Weiss looked away for a moment before pulling off Yang and settling back against the couch, staring blankly at the wall. "Sometimes, I get the feeling that you and Blake are being ... _gentle_ with me."

"That's probably 'cause we are."

Yang's hands were already raised in surrender by the time the Schnee executive leveled her patented scowl at her. "Weiss, I jump off rooftops on a fairly frequent basis. Blake spends her 'off-time' robbing rich assholes guilty of Faunus rights abuses, and she used to _kill_ people for a living. We have very physically active lives that need us to be in really good condition."

The glare softened a bit, Weiss' lip lowering in just the hint of a pout. "You know full well that I work out too."

"You sneak in a run on the treadmill whenever your workload isn't too heavy, and before you get mad, that's not a criticism. I'm glad that you'd rather spend what free time you have with us, but I'm made of muscle-"

"Oh, I've noticed," Weiss said in a tone that from anyone else would have qualified as downright sultry.

Yang blinked as she dragged her train of thought back on track. "... cute. More than anything, you work _all_ the time, and we've been trying not to inconvenience you. You're a much more public figure than we are."

"Meaning?"

"Meaning that outside a few knowing looks, no one's gonna care if they see claw marks under _my_ collar." Smiling, she brushed a few loose hairs behind Weiss's ear, her fingers hovering over her skin. "You show up to a meeting and have trouble sitting down, and it'd be a national scandal."

"So you've been 'taking it easy' with me?"

"I can't speak for Blake, but ... Weiss, I'm still just trying to make sure I don't screw this up."

"Do you really think _you'll_ be the one to screw this up?"

Yang paused for a moment before meeting Weiss' eyes. By the time she looked up, the humor on her face was gone.

"... I think if anyone does, it'll be me."

Weiss sighed with a roll of her eyes, and shifted over to lean against Yang's side. "I'm only going to say this once, but you're better at this whole 'dutiful girlfriend' role than you think you are."

"Thanks, Princess." This time it was Yang's turn to lean in as Weiss' fingers slid behind her neck and pulled her down into a kiss. With a muffled laugh, she leaned back, pulling Weiss with her until the heiress was straddling her hips, pressed against her as they lay back on the cushions.

"Mmm. Wait," Weiss broke from the kiss, pushing off the couch so she could look down at Yang. "About me working."

"Yeah?"

"I've decided to take a sabbatical."

"Seriously?" Yang blinked in surprise and shifted a little further back. As much as she liked feeling Weiss against her, having their faces an inch apart wasn't the best environment for an actual conversation.

"It's more to test my subordinates than anything else. I need to know who can actually do their jobs if I'm not looking over their shoulders twenty-four-seven," Weiss shrugged. "I thought, if I was going to take a month off ... I would want to spend it with the two of you."

"_With_ us, you mean," Yang grinned, eyebrows waggling furiously.

"You're an ass. Yes, that is_ partially _what I meant." Thin fingers tugged as the hem of Yang's tank, and the blonde immediately considered several ways to get the heiress out of her clothes as well.

"You know," she purred, pulling Weiss closer until the two were nose to nose. "As your bodyguard, someone really should have told me that I didn't need to come to work."

"Oh, _you're_ still on the clock. Just because I'm not working, doesn't mean you aren't." Yang's stomach tightened as Weiss' hand slipped under the hem of her top, thin fingers slowly caressing the hard muscles beneath. "So, technically, we're about to have at sex at work."

"You told me that was off-limits."

"I'm on vacation. I can loosen a few rules. As can you." Weiss gave her a level stare that brooked no argument. "We clear?"

"Crystal," Yang said, beaming as her hands slid up the heiress' thighs and tugged at the hem of her blouse.

The thin silk slipped easily over Weiss' head, letting loose a cascade of white hair down behind her neck as Yang reached for the catch of her skirt and struggled to get the constricting garment off her girlfriend. Weiss, for her part, was _not _helping, far too focused on running her hands along the bumps of Yang's abs and laying short, distracting kisses along her jaw. Eventually, they managed to get almost everything off, leaving Weiss clad only in her jet-black underwear. A garter held up her stockings, dark and lacy against her pale skin, matching the rest of her lingerie perfectly and leaving Yang feeling particularly under-dressed for the occasion. Then again, that was Weiss's own fault for not telling her that she was planning something 'special.' If she'd known, she could have prepared ...

"Weiss?"

"Mmhm?" the heiress murmured, her lips still pressed to the side of Yang's neck.

"Exactly _how_ adventurous are you feeling?"

Yang could practically feel the shorter woman's hackles rising as the shorter woman pulled back, eyes narrowed in suspicion. "What are you planning?"

"I have a new toy that-"

"That's a little presumptuous of you."

"... actually, it was for _me_," Yang drawled. "But, if you want, we can 'break it in' with you. 'Cause it sounded like you wanted to try something new. So we could. If you'd like, I mean-"

"You're rambling." Weiss rolled her eyes, and cut her girlfriend off with a kiss. "I don't feel like getting up, so if you'd be so kind ..."

Grinning, Yang hefted the heiress into her arms with the barest hint of effort, clutching her to her chest as they made their way to the bedroom.

* * *

Weiss tugged the straps of her bra from her shoulders, watching as Yang's torso vanished into the closet, sounds of the blonde's rummaging slipping out through the open door. Weiss fought the urge to smile as she watched Yang dig through their closet, the blonde's face already far more flushed than it normally was after a brief makeout session. Whatever Yang was searching for, just the thought of it apparently had the other woman hot and bothered. It was even more obvious when she emerged a few seconds later, harness held in her hand and something hidden behind her back.

"We've used strap-ons before," Weiss drawled, craning her neck just a little, trying to catch some glimpse of what the blonde was hiding.

"Not quite like this one."

"Come on, Yang. Whatever you have, it can't be ..." Weiss trailed off as Yang pulled the toy out from behind her back.

"What the _hell_ is that?"

The blonde grinned sheepishly as she passed her girlfriend the new toy, watching ice-blue eyes widen as she gripped the silicon toy between her thumb and forefinger. Calling it a dildo would be roughly equivalent to calling Weiss a businesswoman; it might be technically true, but there was a world of difference between a normal example and the _thing _Weiss held in her hands. The toy itself was a light, almost fleshy purple, the color swirling up the veiny, bumpy shaft and around the bulbous, slightly pointed head. It was thick, thicker than anything they'd used on Weiss before, sloping down and out until it spread into a bulge the size of her fist.

"I was in that shop down on forty-sixth, and ... well, it looked kinky and weird, so I figured-"

"Yang," Weiss looked up, eyebrows raised. Fair's fair. If Yang was going to tease her about their sex life, she saw no reason not to return the favor. "_You're_ not bored, are you? This is a pretty kinky toy to just bring home."

With a snort, Yang joined her on the bed. "I'm living with two gorgeous women who constantly keep me on my toes. I will never get bored with you, even if all you wanted was straight-up vanilla. From your little 'I'm not made of glass' speech earlier, it sounds like ya don't."

"Glad you got the message."

The toy was tossed to the bed as Weiss leaned in to catch Yang's lips, pressing against the blonde and pulling her back onto the bed. Her back hit the mattress, and Yang followed until she was straddling the smaller woman, smart enough not to let the motion break the kiss.

"So," she asked when Weiss let her up for air. "How do you want to do this?"

"Yang, I wasn't kidding when I said I was worked up." In an instant, Weiss' hips were pushing up against Yang's, seeking some friction from the blonde's washboard abs. "Either strip and get to work, or I'm starting without you."

To her credit, Yang didn't need to be told twice. Weiss watched shamelessly, unclasping her bra as Yang stepped off the bed, whipping off her dark tank and shorts. The heiress' gaze lingered on the sharply defined muscles, tan skin sloping down into her waist before flaring out over her hips.

Violet eyes flashed with mischief, and Weiss found herself briefly weightless, flipped effortlessly by the blonde to land further back on the bed, gold flashing before her eyes as she felt fingers pluck at the waistband of her underwear.

"Yang!"

"Trust me, Princess," Yang said as she slowly drew the lingerie down off her legs. "You're gonna want to be nice and relaxed for when we start."

* * *

Weiss woke the next morning feeling unmistakably sore. It was a dull ache a part of her hoped would last for days, proof of what she and Yang had done, of how much Yang cared for her, a souvenir of their most recent tryst. The rest of her was simply grateful that she had several days to recover – weeks, in fact.

She couldn't completely keep herself from smiling at the thought. With Blake coming home in a few days, and almost of month of vacation time, Weiss was fairly sure the three of them could come up with a few more ways to pass the time. Just the thought had her ...

Weiss' eyes shot open at the familiar feeling of muscular shoulders settled in between her legs.

Kicking lightly, Weiss scooted back against the pillows, looking down as the girlfriend-sized bump beneath the blankets crawled over her leg and wriggled up towards her. Grinning wildly, a disheveled blonde head popped up from under the sheets, flopping down on the pillows next to the drowsy heiress.

"Good morning," Yang beamed, leaning in to kiss her girlfriend.

Weiss caught Yang's mouth with her hand, watching the lilac eyes roll as she wiped the blonde's lips before letting her continue with her morning affections. The kiss was short and gentle, and Weiss would have been tempted to call it chaste but for what Yang had just been doing.

"You know, _I_ don't have any problem with the way you taste," Yang said as soon as they parted. "Especially since you still kinda taste a little like strawberries."

Weiss pushed mussed white hair out of her eyes as she gave Yang a fairly weak scowl. "Not in the morning, oaf."

"How are you feeling?"

"Sore. Cranky. Unfulfilled," she said, her glare getting a little more genuine. "Like someone decided to wake me up and _stopped_ halfway through."

"Just a minute," Yang grinned, completely unrepentant. "I figured we'd take today nice and slow, and then tomorrow, we'll get started on anything you want to do. It sounded like you had something of a list."

"Sounds fine to me." Thin fingers reached out to cup Yang's face, sweeping back unruly waves long enough for Weiss to pull the blonde's lips to hers.

It was a nice moment, lying in bed, the equally naked blonde pressed against her, still sore and not regretting it in the least. The only thing that could make it better was a golden-eyed figure, dark hair tickling her nose, squeezed against Weiss' other side and – if she was lucky – purring contentedly. Still, this was nice, if a little lonely without Blake in bed with them.

Eventually she pushed, and Yang slipped obediently away from the caress, falling back onto the pillows.

"Now, since you were rude enough to wake me up, get back to work." Scowling at Yang's cheshire grin, Weiss shoved the blonde back under the blankets, and smiled as she felt muscled shoulders settling back between her thighs.

* * *

**Well, here we go. This is the start of a section on Weiss' sabbatical, mostly featuring some 'fun times' for the three girls.**

**Please review!**


	9. Moments

**Writer's Note: A few bits and pieces from prompts people asked for off of my tumblr. I have a nother full chapter in the works, but I figured I'd get this out while I had it on hand.**

* * *

**Moments**

If pressed, Weiss will admit she has more bad memories than good ones. Living with her father, with his anger, his demand for perfection, and his constant disappointment. Watching Yang leave, standing by while the one bright spot in her life walked away, and saying nothing because she knew the blonde would be miserable if she stayed. Rough hands on her head, holding her still as a knife inched down towards her eye, only to barely miss as the door flew off its hinges ... definitely more bad than good.

Then, like clockwork, Yang appears from nowhere and wraps her arms around the businesswoman's shoulders, ignoring her protests as she pins her against her chest. Somehow, by some law of nature, she always knows exactly what was going through her mind. Blake is never far behind, pressing into her side, hand stroking down her hair. Then she remembers the first time she saw Yang, _really _saw her, standing awkwardly on the doorstep with a pile of missed homework in her arms. Meeting Blake for the first time and seeing the change in her eyes, watching her realize instantly how the heiress truly felt for her friend. That first date with them both, realizing all three wanted this, that they _could _be together and that Weiss wouldn't be left behind.

Still more bad than good. But she could live with that. It might never be enough to forget the bad ones, but that didn't make the good memories any less dear to her. They had a lifetime ahead of them - there was more than enough time to make better ones.

* * *

Blake looked down at her girlfriends, crossed her arms over her chest, and sighed. There, unconscious on the couch, completely and utterly dead to the world, were Weiss and Yang. The TV flashed brightly in front of them, the light flickering off their faces as the 80s movie playing in the background continued.

The two must have tried to stay up - to wait for her to come home, despite her telling both of them that she wouldn't be back until long after midnight. And with Weiss' workload and Yang's duties as her bodyguard, the two needed all the sleep they could get.

Not that it ever stopped them trying to wait for her. Rolling her eyes, Blake grabbed the remote and turned off the TV, plunging the room into near-total darkness. For a second, she considered carrying them to bed - they needed their rest, and despite how nice of a couch it was, it wasn't a real replacement for the king-sized bed the three of them shared.

Then again ...

Raising the corner of the blanket, she slipped beneath it, arranging herself on Weiss' other side. Careful not to wake the sleeping CEO, Blake shifted until she was pressed against Weiss, her head resting right in the crook of her shoulder. Snuggling just a little closer, breathing in the scent of Weiss' shampoo, she pulled her corner of the blanket tight around her and closed her eyes.

After all, it was a very comfortable couch.

* * *

A loud thump came through the office door just as Yang raised her hand to knock. With a knowing smile, she pushed the door open, coffee mugs balanced in her free hand as she stepped into the room.

Weiss jerked upright, eyes going wide for a second before she realized who it was. A small spot on her forehead was slightly pink for where she'd banged it on her desk.

"Lemme guess," Yang said, sliding one of the cups across the desk to the beleaguered CEO. "Everything is going so well, you decided to give yourself a concussion, just to put some difficulties in your life?"

"Don't get cute," Weiss growled, reaching for the cup and downing half of it in one swig.

Sighing, Yang set her own cup down and moved to stand behind her girlfriend, sweeping her long white hair over her shoulder before digging her fingers into the tense muscles of Weiss' shoulders.

Weiss let out a low groan, arching her back slightly under Yang's touch. "My head of security really shouldn't be doing this at the office."

"Your head of security knows how bad it is for morale when you get like this," Yang drawled, finding the first of what she knew would be several knots - Weiss always carried her stress in her shoulders. "Something about your death glare puts the junior executives on edge."

Weiss snorted, but let her eyes drift shut as Yang dug her thumbs into a spot just below the base of her neck, working at the knot until it finally started to relax.

"Thank you," she said, leaning her head back against Yang's arm.

Yang's fingers paused, just long enough for the blonde to leave the ghost of a kiss against the top of Weiss' head. "Anytime babe."

* * *

"No," Weiss said, staring down at the monstrosity Yang had built in the center of their living room. "Absolutely not."

"Come on, Weiss. Live a little."

Weiss took a breath and tried not to think about how long this ... mess would take to clean up. Blankets covered almost the entire living room of the penthouse she shared with her two girlfriends. They hung from the sofa, knotted onto chairs, balanced on precarious towers of pillows, even draped over the TV to form one large, massive tent that had to have taken Yang the entire morning to arrange.

Yang sat in the center of the tent, grinning despite the sling holding one arm to the center of her chest - she'd broken the bone in her last 'outing' and been told that she needed to actually relax before it could heal.

"One," she growled, looking over at Blake for support. "This is ridiculous, and not at all what I meant by 'entertain yourself while we're gone.'"

"Probably wasn't the best way to phrase it," the Faunus said, her voice a quiet deadpan as she leaned over to stare into the recess of Yang's blanket fort.

"I got bored, okay?" Yang shrugged. "Look Weiss, I know your father would have had a stroke if you did something like this growing up, and we both know this kind of thing is something Blake never would have gotten the chance to do, so ..." she trailed off, waving them inside with her good hand.

"So you expect us to behave like adolescents and indulge your fantasies of reliving our shitty childhoods?" Sarcasm dripped from every word, not that the blonde seemed to notice. Running her face with her hand, Weiss turned to her more sensible girlfriend, looking for some sort of support against this ... infantile idiocy.

"Blake, back me up here."

The Faunus looked at Weiss for a long second, golden eyes completely inscrutable, the turned and crawled into the fort.

Weiss' jaw worked silently for a minute before she let out a growl and just managed to crouch low enough to step beneath the canopy. Smoothing her skirts, she managed to find a path of ground by Yang's side, crossing her arms and glaring daggers at the dark-haired woman who had already laid her head in Yang's lap.

"Traitor."


End file.
